if you are with me, I will never be afraid
by spilledstardust
Summary: A oneshot based around Alex directly before and after the events in the Grand Stream ten years ago. T just in case, because of obvious death.


You don't have to go with me, he had told her the day before. It is dangerous and I know you are afraid. It's okay if you stay.

She had only laughed, then, and smiled at him. Beautiful. I will go wherever you go, she replied, love strong in her voice. If you are with me I will never be afraid.

He had only smiled back, worry a knot in his head, in his gut, but he smiled because he knew she was afraid too. He was terrified, the feeling more powerful than anything he had ever felt in his life, a cold mass of fear in the pit of his stomach, making him feel as though he might empty out every meal he'd ever eaten in his life.

But he was strong. He would be strong. If you are with me I will never be afraid, she had said, and that was enough for him.

--

They watch, standing next to the vanship, watch as Head and Valca bid farewell to their families. Valca's wife bears an expression almost too grievous to look at. Head holds his daughter so tightly that it seems he is afraid she will be torn away, so tightly that she gives a whimper of pain and he lets her down, apologizing, his voice trembling.

They are men, and they are afraid. He is afraid.

Yuris' hand tightens around his own, and she whispers, Everything will be okay, won't it?

His voice is tight as he replies, Of course. We'll end the war. We'll be back home before the month has passed. We'll be heroes.

She sighs, and for a fleeting moment he thinks he might have heard a trembling in her sigh, but her deep brown eyes are set hard, like stone, and he knows that she is afraid but that fear will never take her in its grasp. He wonders if he is already in fear's cold, suffocating hold. He is not sure anymore. He had woken screaming in the middle of the night, screaming as if being murdered but could remember nothing of the dreams that had caused him such terror.

And then Valca and Head turn to them and nod grimly. They nod back, slowly, hesitantly, and they get into the vanship, and their fates are sealed as the engine blares awake and they sail off into the clear skies above Norkia, the two children shouting in encouragement as they fly.

He cannot quite tell, but he thinks he sees Valca wiping at his eyes.

--

He had known it was coming, but he had not expected it to be like this.

The wind screams around him, fingers clawing at the ship, the metal plates rattling as they fought against the wind, so loud, so loud he can barely hear Yuris' voice crackling into his ear every so often, with their coordinates. His hands are pouring sweat as he grips the stick, but his gloves are dry, the wind ripping away any moisture almost instantly.

He can barely see in front of him, can just barely make out Head and Valca ahead of them, pushing the little vanship forward with all their might.

And suddenly out of the darkness comes a huge mass of... of something, he cannot make it out, of something even darker than the inky darkness of the Grand Stream itself, looming ahead of them. His heart catches in his throat and for a moment he is frozen, his mind completely still, until Yuris' panicking voice wakes him, Oh god I lost them, Alex, they were there and then they just, they just disappeared.

Don't panic, he whispers into the mouthpiece. It is all he can manage to do, Don't panic. We'll find them. We know the way.

The reply comes, nervous and babbling, I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened, it was like they just dropped out of the sky, Alex--

And suddenly something hits the ship, and his head whips sideways as the vanship is flung away, rolling and spinning in the air, the winds howling ever harder, threatening to rip him away from the seat and into the screaming black. His knuckles are white under his gloves, against the control stick, and his head smashes against the windshield and he bites the inside of his mouth so hard he spits out a chunk of the inside of his cheek, blood gushing from his mouth, from the gash he feels throbbing on his forehead, but he thinks not of them, only of Yuris! Yuris, our coordinates!

The reply does not come.

Yuris! He screams into the mouthpiece, struggling to see anything in the darkness. There is only a hissing sort of crackle in the earpiece, the sound it made when it was disconnected, almost as if the wire had been ripped aw--

The thought runs cold in his head, never completing, and, throwing caution to the wind, he whirls around in his seat, screaming, Yuris! as loudly as he can, the wind ripping the sound away before he can hear himself scream.

The seat is empty. The seatbelt, broken, clatters noisily against the metal seat, the wire torn, flailing helplessly in the seat.

He has felt terror before, but this surpasses any he has ever felt, as if his whole body has turned to ice, burning him from the inside. His mind goes blank and for a moment he feels as if he's going to red out, red tinting the edges of his vision, until suddenly he hears a wail, realizes it is his and his vision is blurring, blurring and the red is gone and he thinks he's crying but he can't tell, the wind is too strong.

He leans over and vomits over the side of the vanship, tears and blood and sweat and cold terror running down his face in buckets, would be running down his face if the wind wasn't tearing it all away before it had a chance to get anywhere.

No, he thinks, not Yuris, oh God please not Yuris, no, no, Yuris...

He feels the vanship tilting and realizes his hands are no longer on the stick, and for a moment he lets it tilt, lets himself slip out of the seat, wondering if he would be with Yuris if he just let himself fall, but terror grips him again at the last second and he scrabbles for the stick, righting the vanship and sobbing, in shame and fear, and pure, utter despair.

He knows, somehow, that Yuris is gone, and with her Valca and Head and he is the only one left, the promising young pilot they invited along in hopes that someone would be able to carry on the message if they did not make it through the Grand Stream. If this happened.

But he has no navi. He is alone, one person in a vessel made to be manned by two, and he does not know if he can turn around and make it through the few miles they had gone alive, much less onward to Disith.

Slowly, he looks up, over to the side of the ship, and his heart freezes over again.

A huge, massive monstrosity of a ship, in whites and silvers and golds, looms to his right, giant golden ribbons flailing from its center. Vaguely he thinks those must have hit their ship, must have knocked them away, and vaguely the colors click in his head and he knows this is a Guild vessel, from the size of it, one with someone important aboard.

He can just make out a window, as big as a house, in the side facing him, and behind a window, a figure standing, watching. After a moment he can tell it is a girl, a tiny shadow of a girl with snow white hair pulled behind her, a stark contrast to her ruby red lips curled in a smile, a vicious smile and with a bubble of anger welling in his chest he knows she sees him, laughs at him, at the silly Anatore pilots who think they can cross the Grand Stream safely, at the three pilots who just lost their lives to her.

Without thinking he turns the ship around and rides the winds to the edge of the Grand Stream, back to Anatore. His mind is seething with thoughts of the failed mission, of the two men he admired most dead, how he had to tell their families, how the only person who had ever meant anything to him was gone. But above all of it was the raging image of the girl, laughing, and he made a silent pact that if he made it out of this alive, she would regret the day she laughed at the losses Alex Rowe had suffered.

--

Marius and the Emperor stare at him, openly goggling, as he explains what happened, straining to keep his voice hollow, free of emotion, as if reporting something that had happened to some other pilot, some other peace treaty that never made it, not him, not this peace treaty.

When he falls silent, Marius lets out a wail, starting soft and rising to a howl, and his knees crumple beneath him and he buries his face in his hands, sobbing and wailing, Yuris, Yuris, my daughter, no, Yuris, and Alex closed his eyes, blocking out the sound. He would not cry. Not now.

The Emperor's face has turned purple with rage by now, and he screams, Get out of my sight! Alex simply stands, and bowing stiffly, obliges without a word, Marius' sobs following him out only to be drowned out as the great palace doors roared shut behind him.

He closes his eyes – or rather, his left eye, as his right is covered with bandages holding together the gash along the right side of his forehead – and leans against the heavy doors, sighing. He walks on.

He climbs into the vanship, looking past the shattered glass and the metal panels along the side looking as if they might fall off at any moment. He flies, alone, to Valca's wife and the two children, and he hesitates before knocking on their door but does anyway.

Valca's wife answers the door and at first her eyes light up in what seems to be happiness and he fights down the urge to vomit again. When she realizes he is alone, however, she steps away, and chokes out, Oh God no.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice trembling now when it had been so steeled for the Emperor, "I'm sorry. I'm the only one left."

The woman's knees give out and she buries her face in her hands, sobbing silently. The two children, standing behind her, stare. The boy, her son, Valca's son, rushes to his mother, wailing, "Mother, Mother, what's happened?" But the girl, Head's girl, she just stares at them, then slowly, slowly lifts her eyes to stare at him, and he watches as realization creeps over her face and her childish features crumple, and she sobs, "Oh, Claus, oh Claus, they're dead, Claus! Daddy is... Daddy is...!" Her cries turn to wails now, and she all but throws herself to the ground. The boy Claus is trembling now, and he looks to stare up at Alex.

He cannot take this anymore. With a final, murmured apology, he turns and leaves, shutting the door silently after him. He walks past the vanship, through the sleepy little village that was home to the best pilot and navigator team in Anatore, walking,walking, and when he looks up night has fallen and he has no idea where he is. He is standing in the meadows that were abundant in Norkia, the grasses a light green color despite the constant drought, and he falls to his knees and he weeps.


End file.
